Bounty on a Bunny
by Rabid Wookiee Y
Summary: Fed up with the Looney Tunes, Daffy Duck is looking into other universes to find a worthy foe for Bugs Bunny. What's a rabbit to do?
1. BeFuddled

AUTHOR'S NOTES: All copyrighted characters are registered trademarks of their creators.

**BOUNTY ON A BUNNY**

**Prologue**

Daffy Duck smacked his palm against his feathered forehead in impatient disgust. What did it take to get a trigger-happy hunter to shoot a lousy rabbit without it breaking into a game of Twenty Questions? Although Daffy knew the best way to avoid personal harm was to keep from getting directly involved, he sprang from the bushes in which he was hiding and stormed over to the animated conversation between predator and prey.

Today's conversation was as fanciful as any other. Poor old Elmer Fudd was swallowing Bugs Bunny's latest fabrication hook, line and sinker. "Gowwy, Mr. Wabbit." He insisted, nervously cradling his rifle in his arms. "I never heard about this new wule."

"You haven't, eh?" Bugs replied in full confidence mode. "Well, it's a good thing you're hearing this from me and not the game warden, doc. The last thing we want is for you to end up in the slammer for poaching, or worse, get your license taken away."

"Good gwacious, no!" Elmer shuddered, clutching his gun even tighter like a child clinging to his mother. By this point Daffy was standing behind Elmer, breathing furiously and glaring daggers into the amused rabbit's face.

"So, here's the situation, doc." Bugs explained. "All animals that you're allowed to shoot have a pattern on 'em that you can only see under black light." He stopped to flash a curt grin at a fuming Daffy, whose forehead was now noticeably throbbing. The rabbit reached into his burrow and conveniently produced just such a blacklight. He shone it on his own belly. "See, doc? No pattern!"

"Well, I'll be!" Elmer shrugged. "Isn't that intewesting?"

"Now aren't you glad you bothered listening to me before you started shootin' away? What would you be saying to the judge right now?" Bugs asked.

Daffy's rage hit the boiling point. "Just a stir-fried minute there, buster!" he shouted, drawing the attention of both hunter and hunted. "That has got to be the biggest crock of shameless prevarication I've ever heard, even from you! There's not a word of truth to that stupid blacklight story!"

"Really, doc?" Bugs asked, casually angling the blacklight to shine on Daffy's chest. "Do tell. Do tell."

"And another thing!" Daffy continued. "If you think that I..." he suddenly noticed that both Elmer and Bugs were staring at his chest. "I... I..." he looked down and saw that there was a very obvious target on his chest, revealed by the blacklight. "I...eeeeghh... I-eeee... ehhhhh..."

Too late, Daffy realized that the rabbit must have had ACME Ultraviolet Paint on his gloves during their poking argument from earlier on, which was the third incident which ended with Daffy spitting out buckshot that day.

"So... what say we forget this whole thing ever happened?" Daffy simpered, flashing his million-dollar smile. A blast of gunfire blowing the topknot of feathers clean off his head was a very eloquent answer. "YAAAAAAGH!" the duck shrieked, running off in a blind panic.

"Hey, you cwazy duck! Come back here!" Elmer yelled, joining the chase.

Bugs nonchalantly shifted on his heels and batted his eyebrows at the audience. "Y'know, sometimes I almost feel sorry for that nutty duck."

Said nutty duck was currently running like a bat out of you-know-where, Elmer's gunfire barely missing him with each shot. Daffy frantically looked over his shoulder and saw the determined hunter right behind him. But... what was this? Elmer had stopped! Daffy was soon outdistancing the hunter greatly. "Ha ha!" he cheered. "Looks like old Fuddsy knows who's the top bird around here! The prey defeats the predator! Natural selection wins out again! The..."

It was then that he glanced down and realized that the reason Elmer had stopped was because Daffy had ran clean over the edge of a cliff, and he didn't wish to follow suit. "...Mother!" Daffy whimpered just before his ten-story plunge into the raging river below.

After an indeterminate amount of time, the churning rapids finally deposited Daffy to the safety of shore. The duck groggily got to his feet, stopping only to disdainfully spit out the flopping catfish that had lodged itself in his beak. Daffy stormed back to his house, his thoughts as black as his feathers. Slamming the door behind him, his burning eyes turned to a photograph on the mantelpiece. It depicted Daffy posing with several of his cartoon acquaintances. Daffy looked at them in turn.

Elmer Fudd, the eternal outdoorsman. Yosemite Sam, the orneriest outlaw in the west. Wile E. Coyote, the gentleman's predator. The Tasmanian Devil, the unstoppable appetite. Marvin the Martian, conqueror of worlds.

"Amateurs." Daffy spat, swatting the photograph to the floor. A lot of help those bunglers were. All of them had so often tried – and failed – to teach Bugs the lesson he so soundly deserved. It was enough to drive a duck to moult.

Daffy stooped to the floor and grumbled over the other bane of his existence – junk mail. It simply wasn't right that an international superstar such as himself was still subjected to these inane advertisements. He was all but ready to pitch the leaflets into the garbage as usual, when an unfamiliar letterhead caught his attention.

_The Crossover Club is finally open for business, and will soon be the hottest spot around! All characters from cartoons, television, film, comics and online are welcome!_

_Looking for love? Interested in meeting new friends? Want to hire contracted killers to eliminate your enemies? Whatever you're looking for, you'll find it at the Crossover Club! We hope to see you there!_

Daffy's eyes gleamed with interest. "Crossovers, huh?" he declared to himself. "I'll betcha there's a bunch of dangerous types out there much better at dealing with rabbits than these stupid cartoons."

He stood up, the advertisement clasped in one hand. "Why, only a spineless, untrustworthy back-stabber would sic these guys on poor old Bugsy!" he declared. He then made an aside to the audience. "Fortunately for me, that's exactly what I am."

He then raced out the door towards the address indicated on the leaflet. He had some business to attend to.

_Next Chapter:  
__Rabbit's Fett_


	2. Rabbit's Fett

AUTHOR'S NOTES: Sorry for the delay, but there's been a whole lot going on in my personal life these past couple weeks. An interesting note on that request list: while I likely won't use any of those (mainly because 1) I already have a long list of characters at the ready and 2) I'm not familiar at all with most of those characters (Shegoo? Deathstroke?)). However, that Lex Luthor suggestion gave me a doozy of an idea. Stay tuned...

On the surface, the Crossover Club was a pleasant enough place, a staggering variety of characters milling about in a bizarre yet genuine sense of community. However, behind this benign façade was a shadowy, smoky den of unsavoury personalities, few to be liked and even fewer to be trusted. And in a darkened, secluded corner, an overeager duck had found his first client.

"Of course, of course!" Daffy was enthusing, a winning smile across his beak. "Why, after old Lucas saw _my_ outer space adventures, he called me up and said 'Daffy, my muse! You have inspired me! I shall go on to create the greatest space epic of all time, after your own, of course!' Of course, when his humble little movie came out, I consented to let old Georgie precede it with a Duck Dodgers cartoon, just to give it a little glory by association!"

His companion, a silently menacing human, his form completely covered head to toe with tricked-out Mandalorian armour, was not impressed. "Spare me the details, avian." He hissed, his voice rasping coldly from the voicebox of his glaring helmet. "All I need to know is who, and for what."

"Ah yes. Patience, Bobo." Daffy assured, pulling a small holoprojector out of his pocket. Or whatever sufficed for a pocket on him. "This is the no-good character I'd like you to take out." He explained, switching the small device on. A miniature three-dimensional model of Bugs Bunny appeared, tap-dancing to unheard music.

"Hmm." The bounty hunter mused, glaring intently at the holo. "Looks like a Lepi from Coachelle Prime. Jabba find some amusement from this creature."

"Ooh ho ho." Daffy cackled, rubbing his hands together. "Tell you what, Buckethead. You can either take the rabbit out when you find him, or you can drag him back to your boss. It's your choice, and you'll get your fee either way."

"How much?" was all Fett asked in response.

Daffy looked around cautiously before pulling out a bag of Imperial credits, flashing it to the bounty hunter and then tucking it back out of sight.

"Okay. I'll do it." The bounty hunter declared, rising to his feet. "You'd better not try to cut the price, either. I don't enjoy haggling, and neither will you."

"Uh… your point is well taken, friend." Daffy hedged, slightly nervously. This was the man who stared down Darth Vader himself, after all. The hunter turned to leave. "Oh, and by the way…" Daffy added, a sly smile on his face.

"…disintegrations are fine."

Fett nodded slightly, and exited to fulfil his bloody assignment.

"Ah, that was almost too easy." Daffy smirked, lounging in his seat. "Might we have a moment of silence for our soon-to-departed rabbit?"

An instant later he jumped to his feet. "Moment's over! Woo hoo! Hoo hoo!" he hooted, bouncing across the room in unrestrained glee.

--

All was well in the tranquil glade that Bugs Bunny called home. The sun was shining brightly, the birds were singing, flowers were in bloom, and the trees and grass moved softly in the breeze. This tranquillity was quickly shattered when the whine of Slave 1's engines tore through the air, signalling the ship's subsequent landing. From the hatch stormed Boba Fett, one of the most feared mercenaries in the galaxy, his weapons and armour spelling out his dangerous potential in terms any creature from any world could understand. No quarry had ever truly eluded him for long. And his quarry today was a certain rabbit whose luck was about to run out.

Sophisticated sensors whirred and beeped in Fett's helmet. There was no doubt that this was the rabbit's hideout, and the rather large hole in the ground was the obvious entrance. Fett paused to consider his options. While it would be very amusing to drag the rabbit towards Jabba's scant mercies, which usually wound up with the unfortunate party fed to some disgusting creature, and would afford him with a healthy additional fee, Fett had something of a full plate as it was. _Solo evades me still_, Fett reminded himself with a touch of bitterness. Not that it mattered much. It was a temporary problem that would soon be permanently amended. Therefore, eliminating this rabbit was nothing more than a quick, easy job for a decent fee.

Fett pulled a thermal detonator out of his hidden pocket near his right knee. Inside that baseball-sized device was enough explosive power to destroy half a building. Most men would consider using such a device against a rabbit unsporting. But Boba Fett was not most men. With cold, dedicated precision he set the timer on the device and casually tossed the sphere into the rabbit's hole, before stepping back to a safe distance.

An instant later, the silence was shattered by a deafening roar as the detonator exploded. Smoke and flame blasted from the hole as the nearby ground shuddered and swelled under the strain of the incredible release of energy. Boba Fett watched with a professional sense of detachment. This was almost too easy.

However, what he failed to notice was a second hole some distance away, which served as a reliable emergency exit. And from it emerged a slightly charred, choking and gasping Bugs Bunny.

"Sidney Greenstreet's ghost!" Bugs coughed as he pulled himself out of the hole. "What was that? Did I forget to put out the pilot light on the stove again?" Even as he dusted himself off, a sudden pungent odour assaulted his sensitive nose. Bugs sniffed instinctively. Something was burning. It was only after he had turned around that he realized that what was burning was his own tail. "Ouch! Ooh! That smarts!" Bugs yelped, jumping around in pain. He then ran towards a nearby phone booth and placed a frantic, whispered call.

Bugs had barely hung up the phone before a truck promptly roared up next to him, bearing the insignia of the ACME Vending Machine Co. In the space of about five seconds, two burly fellows unloaded and installed a vending machine before leaping back into the truck and speeding off again. Bugs quickly produced a quarter and plunked it into the machine, receiving in trade a bottle of ACME Sparkling Designer Water. With a touch of finesse, Bugs uncapped the bottle and poured it over his flaming tail, extinguishing it with a hiss and a puff of steam. "Ahhh." He sighed, allowing himself to relax. "That was a close one."

The barrel of a heavy laser rifle jammed against his forehead ended his period of relief. "Eh, what's up, Doc?" Bugs tentatively inquired, staring into the faceless T-shaped visor.

"There's a price on your head, rabbit." The bounty hunter hissed. "And I'm going to collect."

Bugs produced a small hand mirror and used it to view his scalp, his other hand brushing his fur to one side. He squinted to read the small print visible on his forehead. "$29.97, eh?" Bugs mused. "Not bad, but I ain't exactly public enemy #1."

"You'll fetch a reward either way, rabbit." Fett threatened. "But I'm going to take you in alive."

"Okay, tin soldier." Bugs shrugged. "Ya cut me to the quick, ya did. Nabbed me fair and square. C'mon, Mac. Let's go."

"Then march." Fett ordered, prodding Bugs with his blaster for emphasis. "And no funny stuff."

"No funny stuff?" Bugs whispered to the audience, mischievously. "He don't know me very well, don't he?" His response was another shove from the laser gun. "Okay, okay! I'm marching already!" Bugs protested. "You point that six-shooter somewhere else, Doc! You're gonna put out an eye if you're not careful!"

Silently Bugs walked, Fett covering him with his blaster directly behind him. Finally they reached the entrance ramp to the Slave 1. Bugs hesitated. "Oh, ain't I the impolite one? Where's my manners? After you, Doc!" he insisted, bowing and gesturing towards the ship with Gallic finesse.

"Not a chance, rabbit." Fett rejoined. "Now get on that ship!"

"You sure you want me to get on first?" Bugs asked, coyly. A warning blast of laser fire shot between his ears, missing him by inches. "Okay, Doc. If that's what you want." Bugs shrugged, stepping onto the loading ramp.

But before Boba Fett could also board the ship, Bugs quickly reached up and slammed the hatch shut. "Foolish rabbit." Fett growled to himself, activating the door hatch via the remote link in his helmet. But when the door opened once more, Bugs was no longer standing there.

Fett stormed into the ship, not noticing that Bugs had tenaciously clung to the bottom of the door hatch, and that Fett had walked directly underneath him. Fett's electronic targeting system caught a glimpse of movement behind him as Bugs dropped back down to the ramp. With a snarl, Fett whirled around raised his wrist-mounted flamethrower, determined to incapacitate the rabbit before he got any more foolish notions. Bugs, for his part, casually jumped up and slammed the hatch shut once more, causing the flamethrower to deflect off the fire-retardant wall and blast back into Fett's face.

"Eh, these high-tech gadget boys." Bugs shrugged as he made his escape. "Those mugs would buy any pricey doodad you'd throw at 'em, but they still don't have the brains to… uh oh."

Boba Fett, slightly singed, emerged from his ship once more, laser rifle at the ready. Igniting his jetpack, he roared directly towards the unarmed rabbit.

"Yipes!" Bugs yelled, barely able to tunnel underground in time to avoid being atomized by a volley of laser blasts. Bugs tunnelled away, but Fett pursued, matching him manoeuvre for manoeuvre. For long minutes they raced, swerving around rocks, between trees, through bushes, up hills… Bugs barely able to keep ahead of the deadly bolts the hunter was firing at him the whole time.

Suddenly, Bugs was gone. Even on Fett's scanners, he had dropped clean out of the picture. The bounty hunter realized that Bugs had tunnelled himself clean over the edge of a cliff. Swooping past the cliff edge, Fett looked around and saw no trace of Bugs. Apparently the foolish rabbit had plummeted clean out of sight. Almost a pity. Almost.

His motion scanner picked up a sudden movement around he felt something tug on his back. The rabbit had hooked a fishing line around the fuel plug of his jetpack, and dislodged it with a sharp tug. "Whaddya know!" Bugs chuckled to himself as he casually lounged on the edge of the cliff. "I think I'll have to throw this one back. This one's just gotta be bigger than the limit!"

Bereft of its fuel source, the jetpack sputtered and died, sending the bounty hunter plummeting straight down into the gulch. "Eh, it looks like the Force was with him." Bugs coyly observed. "The force of gravity, that is."

However, as Bugs was sauntering back to his burrow to examine the smoke damage, another laser bolt whizzed over his shoulder, barely missing him. Bugs turned and saw that Fett had hauled himself back up the cliff with his grappling line, and was firing on him as he climbed back to his feet. "Tenacious fellow, ain't he?" Bugs observed.

A hiss and a roar signified that Boba Fett was finally doing what his action figure never could do: he was firing the rocket attached to his jetpack. Bugs dove into a set of bushes just before the rocket reached him, the explosion setting all nearby vegetation ablaze.

And, hidden in a safe spot, a certain duck let loose with a victorious cackle.

Fett scanned the inferno for any sign of life. He wasn't going to take any chances until he was certain about that rabbit's demise. His sensors found nothing.

"For shame, bounty hunter." A deep, ominous voice chided. Fett whirled around and saw an individual standing behind him clad in black body armour. Everybody in the galaxy knew who this fellow was.

"What business is this of yours, Lord Vader?" Fett asked. "This system isn't Imperial territory."

"Don't I know it, buster." Darth Vader replied. "But you shouldn't oughta go around shootin' rabbits when there's bigger rewards involved." He added.

"What kind of reward?" Fett asked, his interest piqued.

"The Empire has placed a substantial bounty on a certain black duck. I've heard reports that you're acquainted with just such a character." Vader announced.

"Lies! All lies!" both armoured figures turned and saw a disgruntled duck emerge from his hiding place. "I don't know where you get off, Iron Lung, but I have NEVER been a wanted duck in my life!" Daffy protested. "And as for you," he added, pointing an accusing finger at Fett, "I hired you first! Have you no loyalty? What kind of mercenary would turn on his own benefactor, just because he was offered a larger… uh… I mean…"

BLAM! A laser blast caused Daffy's beak to shoot clean off of his head and lodge itself in a nearby tree. Daffy shakily reached to retrieve it.

"That's just a warm-up, duck." Fett growled, igniting his now-repaired jetpack.

"YAAAGGGGHHH!!!" Daffy shrieked as he bolted over the horizon, Fett rocketing close after and charbroiling the duck's tail-feathers with a hail of laser fire.

Once they were gone, 'Darth Vader' chuckled to himself, pulling off his helmet to reveal the grinning face of Bugs Bunny. "Eh, I find that duck's lack of brains disturbing." He declared, crunching on a carrot with a sly grin.

THE END

**Next Installment:**

_Thank Badness it's Friday_


	3. Thank Badness It's Friday

**Chapter 2:**

**Thank Badness it's Friday**

Daffy painfully eased himself into his seat in the back room of the Crossover Club, lisped invectives against rabbits, bounty hunters and the universe in general sputtering from the corner of his beak. That blasted Mandalorian had scorched his tailfeathers something awful, and he knew that sitting down would be a painful prospect for some time to come. He shook his head in disgust. No more mercenaries for him. Those who killed for money were too easy to buy. From now on he sought those that had agendas, that adhered to strict codes of honour, and especially those who…

He looked up at his next client with a wicked smile. **Especially** those who kill for the heck of it.

Said client said nothing, doing nothing more than to glare menacingly from behind his battered hockey mask, a chainsaw cradled in his massive arms. This one fit the bill perfectly. The perfect mix of deadly, remorseless, and mindless. No subtleties to exploit. Just raw, unfettered homicidal mania.

"So, Mister Voorhees," Daffy smirked, pouring on the old charm. "Or Jason? Can I call you Jason? Care for a cup of espresso? Good for keeping your energy up, you know!"

Mr. Voorhees revved his chainsaw ominously. Daffy's pleasant introduction shrivelled and died in his throat.

"Well, uh, what say we get down to brass tacks, okay, pal? All right? All right." Daffy declared, pulling out an old photograph of the alumni of Camp Crystal Lake, a headshot of Bugs crudely composited in the background. "That's him! Right there!" Daffy insisted.

Jason yanked the pull-cord on his chainsaw, the well-oiled implement roaring to life.

"Atta boy!" Daffy encouraged. "You know what you want to do, right?"

Jason rose to his feet, his powerful body tensed in anticipation. The wail of the chainsaw was nearly deafening.

"You want to get him? You want to get him? Then go get him!" a slightly hysterical Daffy cheered, jumping onto the table. "Fetch, boy!"

Jason stormed out the door in pursuit of his latest victim. The fact that he sliced Daffy's beak to ringlets on his way by could be blamed on excess of zeal. Really.

Despite this, the serrated segments of Daffy's beak had to smile. No way Bugs could talk his way out of this. It would be time to celebrate as soon as Daffy found a glue gun…

--

Jason stalked his way through the forest, the cloud-shrouded moon providing the only light, the only audible sounds coming from his heavy boots crunching the dry leaves and twigs. The night was not to be silent for long, and that was for certain. Unhesitating, implacable, he located a familiar rabbit hole and climbed down. It was only seconds until he was marching into the muted blackness of Bugs' bedroom, a telltale lump underneath the covers.

Without so much as a twinge of hesitation, Jason brought his chainsaw to life and, before the mass on the bed could so much as flinch, he brought the deadly instrument down in one smooth stroke, shearing the bed and everything on it cleanly in two. His violent assignment complete, Jason pulled away the covers, revealing…

Well, it **should** have been the mangled remains of his victim. Instead, all he had chopped up proved to be a series of pillows artfully laid across the bed. No sooner had this registered in Jason's less-than-academic brain, when suddenly a gargling sound became audible from the connecting bathroom. And then the sound of running water. And finally, the bathroom door creaked open to reveal a groggy and not altogether pleased Bugs Bunny. Scratching his stomach idly, Bugs yawned, stretched and smacked his mouth a few times before his eyes focussed on the fearsome intruder standing over the remains of his bed.

"Hey, what's the big idea here?" Bugs demanded. "Listen, lumberjack Jack, what business have you got breakin' into innocent rabbits' homes at all hours of the night? You're gonna get a bill for those pillows! You're gonna…"

THWOK! Only Bugs' quick reflexes kept the dagger that was now embedded in the wall behind him from being embedded somewhere much more painful. "Easy, Doc!" Bugs scolded. "You're gonna take somebody's eye out with that thing!"

Hardly impressed, Jason stormed forward, trapping Bugs in the bathroom, chainsaw at the ready. Just as he began his swing, however, Bugs grabbed a bottle of shaving cream from the nearby sink and squirted the foam directly at the eyeholes in Jason's mask. "For shame, Doc." Bugs chided. "If you're gonna shave that close, you gotta use this!"

Suddenly blinded, Jason swung wildly, missing Bugs' head and instead slicing open a heating pipe in the wall. Jason wiped his eyes clean of the stinging cream just in time to receive a blast of steam in the face. By this time Bugs had vacated his hole and was making tracks through the forest.

"That's the second knucklehead who's broken in and messed up the joint in as many weeks!" Bugs remarked to himself. "If I didn't know any better, I'd say I'm being set up! Now who do you suppose would…"

The scream of a chainsaw's engine was barely enough warning for Bugs to duck just before Jason popped out of nowhere and made another deadly swing. This time the swing felled a mighty oak, like the woodsmen of days gone by. Unfortunately, the tree chose to topple over in Jason's direction, smashing him to the ground. "Eh, would it help if I yelled 'timber'?" Bugs coyly asked. To his surprise, Jason managed to wrench himself free from beneath the trunk out of his own power. "This guy just don't know when to quit!" Bugs remarked as he fled once more.

SWISH! Suddenly he found himself face-to-face with Jason once more, and was barely able to avoid just another swipe of the chainsaw blade. Wheeling around, Bugs made his escape in the opposite direction, only to run right into another ambush. Turning around, Bugs ran some more, only to once more find himself heading right in the direction of Jason's blade.

"Hey, wait a minute!" Bugs yelled, coming to a halt. Jason now took the initiative, advancing on Bugs with intent to kill. "Hmm." Bugs mused to himself, seeming to not notice the assailant approaching from behind. "It seems that the faster I go, the easier it is for ol' Cutter John here to catch up to me." By now Jason was directly behind him. However, instead of bolting off like a shot, Bugs casually jogged away from Jason at a moderate pace. Fuming with rage, Jason followed in his slow, limping gait.

Bugs' strategy seemed to work! It seemed that so long as he always kept his eyes on Jason, Jason was forced to keep plodding along slowly instead of doing that offscreen teleportation trick he seemed to know so well. Jason made a few furious swings at Bugs, but the rabbit simply jogged ahead of them. Finally Jason looked up and realized that he had pursued Bugs clean out of the forest, and they now appeared to be in a city of some sort…

SLAM! While Jason was momentarily distracted, Bugs had ducked into some building. As though that would save him from the wrath of Jason Voorhes. Jason marched up to the door and dramatically kicked it down.

…only to have it bounce back into his face and knock him over. It seemed that Bugs had taken the liberty of leaving a large mattress spring on the floor. Jason furiously sliced the door to splinters in seconds. Knocking off overly-hormonal teenagers at a summer camp was one thing, but this rabbit was just asking for it. Entering the building, Jason stormed down a darkened corridor towards a brilliant light. As he approached the light, he heard what sounded like screaming. Good. He preferred them to scream. Stepping into the light, Jason squinted to adapt his eyes to the light…

…and nearly fell over when his boots suddenly skidded treacherously against the floor. What on earth…? Finally his eyes adjusted and he suddenly realized the truth. He had somehow stumbled into… a hockey rink?

Thousands of fans cheered as a catchy tune tooted from the rink's pipe organ. Whirling around, Jason heard a whistle blow, and suddenly two teams of burly players burst from opposite ends of the rink. A referee timidly tossed a puck into the centre of the ice… which was where Jason happened to be standing at this very moment. The puck landed in Jason's shirt pocket. This was not a good thing. The players charged.

Jason raised his chainsaw in challenge, but unfortunately forgot to compensate for the slipperiness of the ice. As he skidded and attempted to remain upright, two players from one side barrelled directly into him, sending him skidding directly into the path of three Slovakian monsters, who slammed into Jason from either side before sending him wheeling backwards, crashing into the boards.

Through all of this, Jason had lost grip of his chainsaw. As he fumbled for his dagger, the crowd began cheering with even more bloodlust than before. He looked up in confusion just in time to see a heavily gloved fist smashing into his face. Suddenly Jason's flannel shirt was pulled up over his head and he was being pummelled in the stomach until the player lost his grip, sending Jason crashing to the ice. Another player skated up and sent the puck – and Jason – flying towards the net with a blistering slapshot. Jason went clean through the net and ended up with his head lodged between the boards.

TWEET! The action on the ice came to a halt as Bugs, dressed as a referee, skated officiously onto the ice. The crowd watched in silence as Bugs picked up the now abandoned chainsaw on the ice. He picked it up, examined it for a moment, and then blew his whistle again, getting everybody's attention.

"This thing ain't regulation!" he announced, to the collective gasps of fans and players alike. Bugs casually tossed the chainsaw away and continued his announcement. "Folks, tonight's game is cancelled!" he announced. The crowd began complaining very loudly. The hockey players hardly looked pleased themselves. "And you all can thank this guy!" Bugs declared, gesturing to Jason, who just then was removing his head from the boards.

Jason looked up in mortal terror. He was unarmed, and there were several thousand people gesturing and shouting furiously at him. The hockey players had pulled off their gloves. Even the mascots looked furious.

SMASH! Jason smashed through the wall of the arena as he fled, the entire population of the rink following a second later. All that was left was Bugs. "Eh, looks like that guy's plans just got put… on ice!" Bugs quipped, before hopping aboard the zamboni and chugging home.

THE END

**Next Chapter:**

**Nassty Rabbitses**


	4. Nasssty Rabbitses

**CHAPTER 3:**

**Nassty Rabbitses**

If there was one thing that Daffy Duck was no stranger to in his long career, it was schizoid tendencies. Perhaps some individuals would have found his latest charge's countenance downright disturbing, but to Daffy it was just business as usual.

"Yes, yes." Daffy enthused, looking through reading glasses at an official-looking set of cards. "And you say that you lost your bracelet while you…"

"Gol'm… gol'm…" the creature rasped in its throat. "No! Lossst Preciousss, we did! Preciousss isss ssshaped asss ring!"

"Oh, right! A ring!" Daffy affirmed, looking through the cards. "I get those all the time from my many loving admirers, what with me being an award-winning superstar and all. But between the two of us, you wouldn't know what that's like, would you, Nature Boy?"

"Andy Ssserkisss dessserved Ossscar!" Gollum protested.

"Yeah, yeah." Daffy dismissed. "Ah! Here we are! Is this the ring you're all worked up about?" he asked, producing a picture of a gleaming golden trinket that Gollum knew very well.

"Preciousss…" he whispered, his eyes gleaming with obsessive desire.

"This little bauble was last seen in the possession of this untrustworthy creature." Daffy added, producing a picture of Bugs Bunny.

"Thief!" Gollum snarled. "We hates him! Kills him, we will!"

"Got a thing against rabbits, huh?" Daffy smirked. "Story of my life, cousin."

"Oh, no!" Gollum insisted. "Smeagol loves rabbitses! We loves rabbitses! Especially… raw." He then hopped down from his seat and scampered towards the door, cackling and muttering to himself.

"Let's hope it takes this guy less than nine hours to do the job." Daffy muttered to himself. "That Sauron chump wanted way too much dough…"

--

Gollum huffed silently to himself as he crept along the forest floor, his simian movements almost impossible to detect. Chanting "thief", "Precious" and "kills" to himself under his breath like a mantra, he finally spotted his quarry. The thieving rabbit was sitting up in a deck chair, rubbing sunscreen on himself and apparently enjoying the sun. Well, he wasn't going to be enjoying the sun for very long. In a few moments all he would see would be blackness. Forever.

"Gets him from behind, we will." Gollum cackled. "Jussst like we did the young Orcses." He crouched behind for infinite moments until he was certain that he was not detected. And then he pounced.

Gollum's gnarled fingers found their grip around the rabbit's throat for an instant, but then the slick suntan oil the rabbit was using caused the wretched ex-Hobbit to lose his grip and fall unceremoniously to the ground. Bugs casually turned around and looked down his sunglasses at the little creature sprawled behind him.

"Eh, they're hiring uglier cabana boys every year." He remarked. "Thanks, Mac." He muttered to Gollum. "But I don't need a neck rub. But if you could get me a refill of these carrot coladas, I'd appreciate it."

"Nasssty ssstupid rabbitses!" Gollum growled. "Gives usss the Preciousss, or we will take it from you!"

Bugs paused to raise his eyebrows at the audience and hold up a sign with a picture of a screw and a baseball on it. He turned back to Gollum with an oily smile. "Why certainly, my dyslexic friend! Do follow me!"

Gollum grudgingly followed as Bugs lead him through the forest. Eventually they reached a large wooden door. "Here we are!" Bugs obligingly explained. "I stashed it in here for safekeeping." He began rattling the door. "Well, what do ya know! I knew I shoulda oiled this thing!" he exclaimed.

"We will breaks it down!" Gollum cried, throwing his wiry little body at the door with all of his might. The door opened surprisingly easy. And the other surprise was that the door lead not into a secret treasure cache, but simply lead clean off of a cliff. "Precioussssss!" Gollum shrieked as he plummeted to the canyon floor.

"Eh, they say that not all who wander are lost, but I got my suspicions about that character." Bugs shrugged to himself.

A battered and snarling Gollum picked himself off of the ground. He threw back his head and let out a scream. "Thief! Rabbits! We hates him! Hates him!" suddenly he was stilled by a burst of wicked inspiration. "Yesss. We won't kills the rabbitses… but _she_ will. Yesss. _She_ will love to have rabbitses for dinner. Yesss. We will go tell her."

Bugs yawned contentedly as he lay back in his deck chair. "If that little noodnik knows what's good for him, he'll have given up." He sighed to himself. Little did he know that a thirty-foot spider was creeping up behind him, claws and venomous fangs poised for the kill.

A shadow loomed large over Bugs. "Hey, do you mind?" he growled. "You want I should get an uneven tan or somethin'? Take your big flatfooted self outta my… yikes!" Bugs yelped when he finally saw what was stalking him. "Sweet mother of arachnophobia! Where'd that thing come from?"

Before Bugs could react, the sinister Shelob had spun a sticky, slimy web, encasing him from his neck to his ankles. The spider did the arachnid equivalent of licking her lips in anticipation.

"Look, lady." Bugs scolded. "I don't know who you think you are, but this is going way too far for a first date. We ain't even been formally introduced!"

Shelob lowered her head to take the first bite, not noticing that Bugs' dextrous ears had grabbed a small canister from the ground nearby. As the spider drew near, Bugs' ears pushed the button on the top of the canister, sending a cloud of insect spray shooting directly into her face.

Shelob reared back, coughing and sputtering like Jack Benny's car, before shakily retreating back to the Misty Mountains. "That sure didn't look like the friendly neighbourhood variety, if ya ask me." Bugs commented.

From his hiding place, Gollum grew enraged at his lackey's failure. "Kills you!" he screeched, throwing himself at the still-webbed-up rabbit. There was a cloud of smoke and a flurry of limbs. When the dust settled, Bugs was free and Gollum was tangled up in the webbing.

"Thanks, Doc. I owe you one." Bugs remarked as he sauntered away. Gollum boiled over with rage. With a primal scream, he tore through the webbing. "Hates him! Hates the rabbitses!" he wailed. So furious was he that he went into split-screen mode.

"No! We likes the rabbitses! Rabbitses nice!" Smeagol insisted.

"Rabbitses steals the Preciousss!" Gollum countered. "Kills him we will!"

"No! Smeagol no kills the rabbitses! Take Preciousss from him, but don't kills it!" Smeagol whimpered.

"You kills him!" Gollum sneered. "You kills anyone! Murderer!"

"No! Smeagol wouldn't hurts anybody!" Smeagol insisted. "Smeagol takeses Dramamine!"

"I have an idea." A third personality said. "Let's forget the whole thing ever happened."

"No!" Gollum insisted. "Kills the rabbitses and takes the Preciousss we will!" Smeagol looked torn, but sadly nodded in agreement.

"He went thataway." The third personality said, pointing. Gollum took off like a shot. The third personality pulled off his mask, revealing his true identity. "Eh, all those personalities and so little brains." Bugs Bunny shrugged. "Bad combination if you asked me."

Gollum skidded to a halt, realizing that he didn't have a third personality. "Nasssty rabbitses! He tricks us again! Well, we are more tricksy than he is!" he declared, racing back to where he came from.

Bugs was standing on the edge of a cliff, something shiny on his finger. "Don't try and stop me, Doc!" he shouted. "I'm getting rid of this thing for once and for all!"

"NO!!!" Gollum shrieked, jumping on Bugs' shoulders and wrestling him to the ground. So insane with rage was he that he bit the ring clean off of Bugs' hand – and the finger with it. "The Preciousss! At lasssst!" Gollum cackled, dancing in glee. Unfortunately, he proved to be a little too close to the edge of the precipice and he tumbled over the edge, the ring and finger still clasped in his greedy hands. He didn't care. He had what he wanted.

Gollum laughed triumphantly as he fell in slow motion. It was only then that he discovered two disheartening facts. Firstly, the ring was actually a plastic prize from a cereal box and not the Ring of Power he sought. Secondly, the "finger" he had bitten off was no finger at all, but actually a cleverly-concealed stick of lit dynamite. Gollum whimpered in slow motion as Annie Lennox crooned in the background.

BLAM! The force of the explosion sent the thieving little creature blasting back up into the air and soaring over the horizon. Bugs watched the fireworks display with a smile. Gandalf would have enjoyed these.

THE END

**Next Chapter:**

**I Love You Too, Honey Bunny**


	5. I Love You Too, Honey Bunny

AUTHOR'S NOTE: One small note in the interest of literary honesty: I have never seen Pulp Fiction in my entire life, and I don't ever intend to. Take that for what it's worth.

The following has been edited for network television.

I Love You Too, Honey Bunny

Back at the Crossover Club, Daffy was beginning to have second thoughts about the two hit men he was considering hiring. Likely because one of them currently was throttling him.

"Say despicable again!" the large man with the jeri curl wig roared. "Say despicable again, you (BEEP)! I (BEEP) dare you!"

"Hey, take it easy, Jules." Remarked his somewhat smaller partner. "Don't mess up his feathers. They look new. Keep cool."

"I am cool, Vince." Jules sniffed indignantly, setting Daffy back down. "I'm cool. Like Fonzie. Aaayyyyyy."

"Sorry about that, Duck." Vince apologized. "Jules here's having a bad day."

"Well, normally, you'd be as dead as (BEEP) duck soup right now, but I'm in a transitional period at the moment." Jules added.

"Spare me the pious self-analysis, Curly." Daffy scoffed, refusing to be bullied. "I want you crackshots to take out a certain rabbit."

"What does he look like?" Jules asked, dangerously.

"Well… you know…" Daffy began.

"What does he look like?" Jules repeated, furiously.

"Well… grey fur…" Daffy stammered.

"And…?" Jules growled.

"L-long ears?" Daffy asked.

"Does he look like a…" Jules began, before getting cut off by Vince.

"We'll get him." Vince assured. "We know some guys who could work him over with a blowtorch and pliers…"

"No, don't bother." Daffy interrupted. "Just take him down and get your pay. Don't try any fancy stuff with this rabbit. Believe me."

"C'mon, Jules." Vince ordered, gently guiding his partner towards the door. "We'll pick up a couple of Le Royales with cheese on the way."

"That guy's despicable." Daffy growled. Jules bugged his eyes at that, but Vince gently shoved him out the door before anything else could happen.

-

1960's era surf rock blared on the soundtrack as Vince and Jules' car pulled up in front of Bugs' rabbit hole, which would soon be a "Dead Rabbit Storage" if all went according to plan. The car screeched to a halt, the two dangerous men engaging in small talk.

"And this guy Aristophanes would practice his speaking by standing on the beach and trying to yell over the waves." Vince was explaining. "And if that wasn't enough, he had a bunch of rocks in his mouth while he did it!"

"Rocks!" Jules snorted. "I don't need no (BEEP) rocks in (BEEP) mouth to make somebody listen to me. This is all I need." He added, pulling out his handgun and cocking it.

"Think we should bring the shotguns?" Vince added, producing his own gun.

"Shotguns?" Jules scoffed. "It's only a (BEEP) rabbit!"

"Well, maybe there's… more than one in there." Vince hedged.

"Oh, (BEEP) Vince, we don't need to bring the (BEEP) shotguns just because the (BEEP) rabbit is having a (BEEP) Tupperware party!" Jules yelled. "What, are you afraid they'll (BEEP) bite you? You've been watching too many (BEEP) cartoons, man. Those things are bad for you."

"Okay, fine." Vince growled. "Let's go." The two men exited the car and climbed down the ladder to Bugs' burrow. Both scanned the room with their guns. Not a trace of their target.

"Eh, sorry guys." A voice came from behind. "I already sent the Watchtower a check last month." Jules and Vince whirled around to find Bugs nonchalantly standing behind them. "Nice suits, by the way." Bugs added. "Do they do tuxedos, too?" The hit men, momentarily stunned, drew their weapons on Bugs.

"Stupid rabbit." Vince sneered. He and Jules pulled the triggers simultaneously.

BLAM! BLAM! When the smoke cleared, Jules and Vince both had blackened, smoking faces, while Bugs remained unharmed. "Eh, sorry, guys." Bugs shrugged. "Did I break your concentration?" As he slipped away, the hit men examined their weapons.

"Carrots!" Vince spat indignantly, wiping the gunpowder from his face. "He plugged up our (BEEP) guns with carrots!"

"You don't just stick (BEEP) vegetables in a brother's piece!" Jules roared. "That (BEEP)'s against the rules!"

"Rules!" Vince countered. "I didn't know that this runnin' around and shootin' the (BEEP) outta people life had a (BEEP) rulebook! Could I see your copy?"

"Ah, cut the (BEEP) comedy and let's get that (BEEP) rabbit!" Jules yelled.

"Eh, don't mind me, fellers." A voice called. The two hit men spun around to see Bugs waving at them from the bathroom door. "I'll be right out." He slammed the door behind him.

"Ah, (BEEP), Jules; of all the time to go to the (BEEP) bathroom." Vince complained. "This (BEEP)'s gonna take all day at this rate!"

"What is this? (BEEP) kindergarten?" Jules retorted. "Go in there and blow the rabbit's (BEEP) head off! I'll take your back."

"But Jules, whenever I go to the bathroom… bad things happen." Vince cautioned.

"Cut the (BEEP) and blow the rabbit's (BEEP) head off!" Jules yelled. "If you don't, I'm gonna… glgh… glgh…" his rant was suddenly cut off by a bar of soap flying towards him and jamming in his mouth.

"What the (BEEP) is goin'… glgh!" Vince gargled, as a second bar of soap flew into his mouth as well. The sputtering men turned and saw Bugs peeking out the bathroom door.

"Ma always said that bad boys should have their mouths washed out for usin' such doity language!" Bugs scolded. "Don't make me get out the soup ladle!" he slammed the door once again.

"Spp… sp-toooooie!" Vince sputtered, managing to dislodge the soap from his mouth. "That mean, nasty rabbit! I ought to go in that darn bathroom and blow him so full of holes that he'd… wait a minute!" he gasped with sudden horror. "I can't say… I can't say… those words anymore!"

"Pleaaaah!" Jules spat out his bar of soap. "What the blue blazes does that carpet-bagging rabbit think he's doing, messing up our authentic Tarantino dialogue like that? I'm gonna smack him soundly!" Both winced, the PG-rated dialogue unfamiliar to their ears.

"Hmmm." Vince mused, looking at the soap. "That's Dove. This rabbit knows the good stuff. Dove even beat Ivory in the litmus test!"

"Dove beat Ivory in the litmus test?" Jules asked in mock astonishment.

"Yeah. They take this piece of paper, see, that reacts to acids and bases by…" Vince began.

"LIKE I GIVE A RAT'S BEHIND OVER WHETHER OR NOT STINKIN' DOVE BEAT STINKIN' IVORY IN THE DAG-NABBED LITMUS TEST!" Jules yelled. "LET'S JUST GO IN THAT LOUSY BATHROOM AND FINISH THAT NOT-VERY-NICE RABBIT OFF!"

"Right!" Vince yelled, smashing open the bathroom door and darting inside, gun drawn. He looked around in bewilderment. "Hey Jules, the rabbit's gone!" he yelled.

"Well, see if there's a dang skylight or something!" Jules yelled back.

"A skylight? This is a blankety-blank rabbit hole!" Vince insisted. Glancing down at the toilet, he saw something distressing. "What the… it's the script for Battlefield Earth 2!" he exclaimed. "What's it doing there?" He bent over to retrieve it.

BOOT! Suddenly a rabbit foot-powered kick sent him pitching forward, landing facedown in the toilet. As he sputtered and thrashed, a gloved hand casually pressed the flush lever, sending him spiralling down, down, until he was completely out of sight. Vince Vega was gone.

"Eh, I always said his career was in the toilet." Bugs chuckled to himself. The chuckle died in his throat when the barrel of a handgun suddenly pressed against his temple. "Eh, what's up, Sam?" Bugs cautiously asked.

Jules coldly released the safety on his gun with an ominous click. "_The path of the righteous man is beset on all sides by the inequities of the selfish and the tyranny of evil men. Blessed is he who, in the name of charity and good will, shepherds the weak through the valley of the darkness. For he is truly his brother's keeper and the finder of lost children. And I will strike down upon thee with great vengeance and furious anger those who attempt to poison and destroy my brothers. And you will know I am the Lord when I lay my vengeance upon you_."

"Nice, Doc." Bugs replied casually. "Biblical, ain't it?"

"Ezekiel 25:17, rabbit." Jules sneered. "And you're gonna get struck down now."

"Eh, I don't think that's right, Doc." Bugs insisted.

"What are you talkin' about, rabbit?" Jules demanded. "That's Ezekiel 25:17!"

"Are you sure?" Bugs cajoled.

"Of course I'm sure!" Jules insisted. "I know my Ezekiel 25:17! I've said that before I killed at least 20 people just this year!"

"Maybe you've been saying it wrong all this time, y'know." Bugs coolly replied.

"I'm not wrong!" Jules yelled.

"Well, Doc, there's only one way to settle this." Bugs declared. "Come with me!"

Before Jules quite knew what had happened, Bugs had grabbed his wrist and pulled him along at incredible speed. When the blur settled, the two were suddenly in a massive cathedral. Bugs casually leafed through a massive Bible as Jules looked around in confusion. "Here you are, Doc." Bugs said. "Read it for yourself."

Jules looked at the ponderous tome. To his surprise, the true text of Ezekiel 25:17 proved to be _And I will execute great vengeance upon them with furious rebukes; and they shall know I am the Lord when I lay my vengeance upon them. _"Huh?" Jules was astonished. "Then where'd I get all that other stuff from?"

SMASH! Suddenly Jules found his nose mashed between the pages of the Good Book. "That's what you get for snoozin' in Sunday School, Doc!" Bugs taunted as he fled.

"Why, you…" Jules snarled, pulling out his gun and giving chase, firing a few wild shots. Bugs ran inside a massive stone door, and Jules followed. The room proved to be full of ancient artefacts. Bugs proved to be standing in front of a large golden ark.

"Don't shoot, Doc!" Bugs warned. "You'll be sorry!"

"No, _you'll_ be sorry!" Jules countered, firing a shot that narrowly missed Bugs and dented the side of the ark. Suddenly a brilliant light filled the room, and several shimmering beings rose from within it, glowering at the person who dared to fire a shot at them. Jules' face bore an expression that could only mean "Oh crap".

"Oh, you're gonna get it now, boy." One of the glowing figures simply said. "Old Testament style."

What ensued after that can be imagined by anybody who's seen Raiders of the Lost Ark. While all this happened, Bugs casually made his way to the door. "Eh, I think I should be leavin' now." He remarked. "Yeah, that's probably a good idea."

THE END

Next Installment:

It's Not Ogre Yet


	6. It's Not Ogre Yet

AUTHOR'S NOTES: Sorry about the delay, as I've been in the midst of computer troubles this past week. I'll be back in action full-time soon enough.

And also, an announcement regarding the future of BOAB. While exactly how many episodes will be made is still up in the air (I've got a number of good I hope ideas), I have now determined whom Bugs will battle in the final chapter. Suffice it to say that it will be the most pronounced evil Bugs will ever encounter. Those of you who know me well may already know who the mysterious antagonist(s) are. Other than that, my lips are zipped. It'll be a surprise.

On with chapter whatever this is!

**It's Not Ogre Yet**

Everybody, it is said, has his or her price. For the right amount, even a generally noble creature can be bought and sold for assignments against his or her better nature. A good example of this principle was Daffy's latest client.

A seven-foot-tall ogre, green of skin, strong of build and even stronger of stench. He clearly did not fear the shady characters in the room, but he did not seem especially comfortable amongst them either. He appeared to be the type who did not wish to stand out in a crowd. This would prove difficult, however, as he was accompanied by a donkey with a mouth on him that had all the discretion and subtlety of an erupting volcano.

"Aw, c'mon, Shrek!" the donkey enthused, leaping up and down. "Ooh, this is gonna be good! Just Shrek and Donkey goin' out on another hair-raising quest, bravin' the elements, kickin' some bad guy butt, and letting loose with some manly dialogue during the slow spots!"

"Donkey…" the ogre replied, his peeved tones coloured with a heavy Scots burr, "do all of the non-deaf individuals in the room a favour… and SHUT YER YAPHOLE ALREADY! I'm conducting business here!" he then turned back to Daffy in embarrassment. "I'm sorry, we're still looking for a properly fitting muzzle for him. Now, tell me more about this… this… rabbit you want us to take out. I don't have much experience with talking rabbits."

"Well, my fairy-tale friend, he looks like this." Daffy explained, producing a picture of Bugs. "Don't let that aw-shucks buck-toothed grin fool ya – that's one nasty furball!"

"Really?" the ogre mused, stroking his chin thoughtfully. "What did he do to ye, anyway? Nibble yer pinfeathers?"

"HAH! A likely story!" Daffy spat. "He was so jealous of my fame and fortune, you know what he did? Well, I'll tell you what he did! He made a deal with one of those sorceress types, and he took my fortune away from me! And then he…" he paused to wipe away a crocodile tear from his cheek, "he turned me… into a duck!"

"Well! That's rough, Mr. Duck, sir…" the ogre hedged. "But I'm not really sure if I'm up to…"

"Eliminate the rabbit and all this is yours!" Daffy interrupted, producing a sackful of gold coins. The duck's eyes glinted in triumph as he saw the ogre give in to his monetary concerns. The ogre nodded his consent.

"C'mon, Donkey." The ogre rasped as he rose to leave. "The sooner we get this over with, the sooner we get our gold. Unless…" he added, "you'd prefer we went back to cleaning the stables again…"

"No way, Shrek!" the Donkey was indignant. "I ain't cleanin' no stables, Shrek! I ain't down with walkin' knee-high in somebody else's FILTH! Barnyard animals are DISGUSTING creatures!"

"That they are, Donkey. That they are." The ogre mused as he walked out the door.

"Hey, that ain't cool, Shrek!" the Donkey piped up, trotting close behind. "Y'all know I wasn't talkin' 'bout no donkeys when I said that! Now, a cow! A cow is absolutely disgusting! I dated a cow in high school, and let me tell you; all that heifer did was GRAZE! It was like she had multiple stomachs or something… And how'd she expect me to kiss her after she'd been chewing her cud? I didn't even know where that cud had BEEN…!" the door closed behind them.

Daffy sat back in his chair and mused. He almost felt a certain empathy with that poor ogre, having to put up with long-eared, loud-mouthed scene-stealing sidekicks like that. He and the ogre were, indeed, so much alike…

…But of course that ogre wouldn't make HALF as much at the box office as a star such as himself, he reminded himself. Plus, that body odour problem didn't help at all.

-

The Proclaimers' "I'm Gonna Be 500 Miles" (the most illogically titled song in history) softly underscored Shrek and Donkey's arrival to Bugs Bunny's glade. Their flawless CGI forms clashed terribly with the hand-drawn, two-dimensional atmosphere, but they were unconcerned. At least Shrek was unconcerned, at any rate.

"Shrek!" Donkey shrieked. "Something happened to my eyes! Everything's looking flat and brightly-coloured!" he held up a single hoof to his face. "I can't even count my fingers! Wait a minute… I DON'T HAVE FINGERS!"

"Donkey, relax." Shrek assured. "It just means we're getting closer to the rabbit's lair." He tentatively sniffed the air. "He's close by. We'll find him."

"Oh, okay. I gotcha, Shrek." Donkey replied, perking back up. "Say, uh… weren't you gonna ask old… uh… what's-his-name to join us?"

"I did, Donkey." Shrek replied. "He's around somewhere. I got him to shadow us. You know, just in case…"

"Just in case what, Shrek?" Donkey demanded, a sudden urgency in his voice once more. "Something bad's gonna happen, ain't it? Wait a minute… you know something bad's gonna happen, don't you? Oh, sure! Set up the beast of burden to take the fall! You're gonna use me as bait, and then take the rabbit by surprise and take all the gold for yourself, aren't you? Aren't you?"

"Donkey, no!" Shrek roared, finally able to shout Donkey down. He exhaled mightily. "I just told him to… to keep an eye out in case we ever needed backup."

"Oh, sure, Shrek." Donkey sneered, a little hysterical. "Backup, in case a certain donkey found out about your little SCHEME and decided to make a run for it! Ooh, don't think I don't know the score, Shrek! I know the score, all right! I'm the scoreKEEPER! Well, Donkey ain't playin' your little game anymore! What if that rabbit casts a spell on me? What if he turns me into a duck, Shrek? I'm ALLERGIC to down!"

"Donkey! I am not setting you up!" Shrek insisted, gripping the small quadruped's face with both massive hands. Donkey seemed curiously mollified from this.

"You mean that, Shrek?" he asked. "Or you just sayin' that so I'll let my guard down?"

"Donkey, if I wanted you dead, you'd have been in pieces the day we met." Shrek rationalized.

"Well, that's comforting to know, Shrek!" Donkey grinned, completely over his panic.

"This is why I didn't want you to come along in the first place!" Shrek ranted. "I knew you'd be dogging my every step with your incessant over-analyses of every single thing I say and do!"

"Well, you need somebody to keep a cool head during all this." Donkey replied, to Shrek's incredulity. "I mean, sure, you can go rushing into danger headfirst, but not me. I've got a wife and eight half-breed children at home, Shrek! You have no idea what it's like to have commitments!"

"Donkey! I'm married too, y'know." Shrek calmly replied.

"You are? When'd that happen, Shrek?" Donkey was confused. "I don't recall getting an invitation…"

Shrek displayed the patience of a saint. "Fiona…?" was all he said in reply, a slight musical tone to his voice.

"Fio… oh, RIGHT!" the dim bulb in Donkey's head brightened. "Oh, right. 'Course. I mean, you and Fiona are like, this year's It Couple! And your colour schemes complement each other so nicely…"

"…And Fiona is the reason I took this job in the first place. I need the money. Now let's get going." Shrek declared. "Ah, here we are…" he commented as the two approached the familiar rabbit hole.

"How we gonna handle this, Shrek?" Donkey asked. "You want me to give him ol' one-two? Yeah, I can do that. I don't care much for physical violence, but sometimes a donkey's gotta do…"

"Okay, Donkey, okay." Shrek countered. "Here's how it'll go. I'll grab him, and you knock him out. We'll figure it out from there."

"What!" Donkey asked after a short pause. "That's it? You grab him, I knock him out? That's it?"

"Can you think of anything better, Donkey?" Shrek challenged.

"Well, er… no, but… well, I'd expect better from the Ogre Master!" Donkey replied.

"The Ogre Mast…? Donkey, look." Shrek sighed, rubbing his temple. "I just want to get this over with, with as little fuss as possible. Do you understand?"

"You got it, Shrek." Donkey replied. "Let's kick this rabbit's butt!"

"Okay! Here we go!" Shrek announced. He bent over and reached into the hole. "I think I've got him, Donkey! Get ready!"

Shrek pulled his quarry out of the hole, Donkey smashing it with a kick as soon as it emerged. POOF! The pair were instantly covered with… flour?

Upon closer examination, Shrek had not grabbed a rabbit at all, but a flour sack decorated to look like one. Now the pair looked like they did after that night of having a few too many at the Gingerbread Man's house.

Down in his hole, Bugs Bunny chuckled to himself. "What a couple of suckers! What a… YIPES!" Suddenly he was grabbed by his ears and forcibly hauled upwards by a very angry ogre. "Why, Doc. I didn't know you cared!" Bugs coyly rejoined, giving the ogre a peck on the cheek.

"Blech! Filthy beast!" Shrek yelled, wiping off his cheek. "Donkey! Get him!"

"Okay, Shrek! Just hold still!" Donkey replied. "Leave it to me!" But Bugs was far too slippery, finding a new position to orient himself upon Shrek's flustered form, forcing Donkey to change his aim again and again.

Bugs maneuvered himself so he was directly between Donkey and Shrek's face. "C'mon, buckaroo!" Bugs encouraged, even as Shrek thrashed around. "Take your best shot!"

"Hold still, Shrek!" Donkey yelled, rearing up. "I'ma gonna beat his cottony behind but good!"

"Donkey!" Shrek yelled. "Don't…!"

POW! Bugs neatly leaped out of the way just in time for Donkey to nail Shrek right in the head with both feet. "Ach… not again…" Shrek moaned as he collapsed facedown onto the grassy knoll.

"Now why'd you go and do that, Shrek?" Donkey scolded Shrek's unconscious form. "You of all people should know to stay out of the way when a donkey's gonna kick!" A tempting orange morsel dangling from a nearby tree suddenly completely took over Donkey's minimal attention span.

"A carrot!" Donkey crooned, approaching the carrot with great interest. "I do enjoy carrots. And they're an excellent source of Vitamin C, as well… wha… WHOA!" So focused was Donkey on the carrot that he was entirely oblivious to the barely-camouflaged hole directly beneath him. Oblivious, that is, until he had fallen into it. "Now, who would go and dig a hole in the middle of the forest like that?" Donkey's voice echoed from the depths. "Sure is dark down here… well, at least it seems dark down here. Wait… maybe it isn't dark! Maybe… maybe… oh, Lord, I've gone BLIND! Oh, if only I'd have taken better care of my eyes…"

"Eh, what a couple of maroons." Bugs chuckled to himself as he headed back to his hole. "Now to… huh?"

Between him and the hole now sat an adorable orange tabby cat, large watery green eyes staring soulfully into his. Altogether, a sight that would warm even the stoniest of hearts. "Hey there, pussycat." Bugs murmured, reaching out to pet the cuddly animal. "What are you doin' way out in…"

The cat suddenly lashed out, hissing at Bugs and barely missing with a claw swipe. "Hey, easy, hairball!" Bugs demanded, rapidly withdrawing his hand. "What's the big idea?"

In one fluid motion, the cat made a backflip to a standing position, landing in a pair of oversized boots. A feathered hat now perched jauntily on his head, and in one paw he held a rapier. "Foolish _conejo_." He whispered in a Spanish accent. "You have let your guard down, and now you are at the mercy of… Puss in Boots!"

"Now take it easy with that thing, Doc." Bugs cautioned. "We don't want nobody to get hoit, do we?" A sudden flurry of swipes, thrusts and jabs left him trapped with his back against a tree.

"Make your peace, rabbit." Puss in Boots hissed in triumph, the sword lightly poking Bugs' chest.

"Okay, Doc. You asked for it." Bugs shrugged. In a flash, he reached behind his back and produced… a single piece of string. He dangled it invitingly in front of Puss' face.

"You try to trick me, rabbit." Puss growled, even as he began to twitch. "It will not work." His grip on his sword began to shake.

"Well, you can't blame a rabbit for trying, I guess." Bugs sighed, lowering the string, leaving it inches from the cat's nose. Puss let out a little whimper.

"I must fulfill my assignment… and yet… I find the string… strangely… intriguing…" the cat whispered, his eyes wide.

The string touched his nose.

"F-forgive me, father." Puss was barely able to say before, in a sudden, violent movement, he was on his back, the string gripped tightly in his paws, his teeth gnawing frantically on it.

"Cats. Gets 'em every time." Bugs remarked as he sauntered away. "I wonder if… ghhhk!"

In a flash Puss was on Bugs' shoulders, using the piece of string as a garrote. "You will soon learn that Puss in Boots is no ordinary feline." He growled.

"Cough, cough No kiddin'…?" Bugs asked, gasping for breath. "Ain't that interesting?" he then reached up behind him and gently scratched a small spot just between his assailant's shoulder blades.

"Purrrrr… will you stop that… purrrrrr… insolent rabbit?" Puss demanded, even as his grip began to loosen. But Bugs gently continued to scratch, until Puss was but a boneless mass stretched out on the ground, sighing contentedly.

Suddenly Puss leaped to his feet, his eyes alight with fury. That rabbit had made a fool of him by preying on his baser tendencies and escaped! Well, he would not get away with it. It would end with him on the wrong end of Puss' blade. Puss leaped towards the hole and dove in, landing on his feet, his sword at the ready. "Your time has come, rabbit!" he snarled.

"Well, whaddya know." Bugs remarked. "Ain't that always the way? Company shows up when I'm cleanin' up the joint." He turned and revealed that he was holding… a vacuum cleaner.

Puss gasped in horror. "Oh, no, no, no! _Por favor… por muchos favor_…" Bugs idly thumbed a switch. The vacuum roared to life.

"_MADRE DE DIOS_!" Puss shrieked, his fur standing on end in blind panic. He scrambled back up the ladder, and didn't stop until he was at the very top of a nearby tree, shivering with terror.

By this point, Shrek had finally regained consciousness. He had a throbbing headache, partially because of the kick to the head he had received minutes ago, and partially because of Donkey's continued moaning from the nearby hole.

"And now I'll never be able to be a concert pianist…" Donkey sobbed to himself.

"Donkey, if anything on you goes, I hope it's the mouth that gives out first." Shrek sighed, reaching into the hole and pulling Donkey out.

"Wait a minute… I ain't blind!" Donkey was euphoric. "I can see! I can SEE! It's a MIRACLE!"

"Donkey…" Shrek interrupted.

"Ooh, watch out, Dragon!" Donkey hooted, trotting in place. "Your man's comin' home, and he's feelin' FRISKY!"

"Donkey!" Shrek yelled, grabbing Donkey by the scruff of the neck. "There's no time for this! We've gotta take care of that rabbit!"

"No way, Shrek!" Donkey countered. "I ain't messin' with him again! That hole thing was a TRAUMATIC experience for me!"

"That is no ordinary rabbit!" Puss shouted from the tree, crossing himself with one paw. "He has powers beyond anything I've seen!"

"Ah, you two." Shrek dismissed with a wave of his hand. "Go ahead, run away. But that rabbit's gonna pay for getting on an ogre's wrong side!" He jumped into the rabbit hole and climbed the ladder down.

"Go get 'im, Shrek!" Donkey shouted. "You show that rabbit who's boss!"

"He's gonna get trounced." Puss sighed.

"Oh, yeah." Donkey agreed with a slight wince.

Inside the rabbit hole, Shrek looked around, fists clenched. "All right, rabbit. This'll only hurt ye for a few seconds." He growled. It was then that he spotted something appetizing sitting on the kitchen table. "Marinated garden slugs!" Shrek couldn't believe his luck. "Well, an ogre hates to brawl on an empty stomach…" he stuffed the slimy snack into his mouth, not noticing Bugs hiding around the corner, holding a half-empty box of baking soda. "All right, rabbit." Shrek announced, wiping the last remnants of green slime from his mouth. "Now get out here and we'll… urp…"

Outside, Donkey and Puss watched from a safe distance. "It is too quiet." Puss declared.

"Yeah, you're right." Donkey added. "You'd think Shrek would make more noise than that. I wonder if…"

BOOM! Suddenly a massive explosion shook the surrounding area, Shrek shooting out of the hole like a firecracker. He crashed back to earth, dazed and blackened.

"What the heck you think you're doin', Shrek?" Donkey demanded.

"Boss! What happened?" Puss asked.

"He musta put something in those slugs!" Shrek wheezed, coughing up some black smoke. "He turned my own belch against me!"

"Why, of all the colossal nerve! You're not gonna let him get away with that, right, Shrek?" Donkey declared. "Shrek…?" He turned and saw that Shrek was now sitting forlornly on a nearby rock.

"I never wanted to take this job, y'know." Shrek sighed. "I just wanted to be able to afford a decent anniversary present..."

"Hey, don't take it like that, Shrek." Donkey said, trying to be comforting. "Just being married to a… uh… healthy specimen such as yourself should be all that any woman would want."

"Ah, how little the foolish _burro_ knows of the fairer sex." Puss sneered.

"So says the only SINGLE guy in this discussion!" Donkey shot back.

"You wound me deeply." Puss snorted.

"Eh, why the long face, Mac?" Bugs asked, coming up from behind. "I thought you green giants were supposed to be jolly."

"Agh, leave us alone, Mr. Rabbit." Shrek growled. "We're gonna leave ya in peace now. We know when we're licked."

"Well, I couldn't help overhearin' your little conundrum there." Bugs replied. "I was just wonderin' who in the woild would hire somebody like you to take out little ol' me."

"Eh, he said he was a former friend of yours." Shrek responded. "He said you turned him into a duck."

"A duck, eh?" Bugs replied, beginning to understand the truth. "C'mon, fellows, I got something to tell ya. Step inside. I've got some carrot cake…"

"Carrot cake!" Donkey leaped up. "Ooh, I just LOVE carrot cake! With cream cheese icing, and maybe a few chipped walnuts…!" Puss sighed something unintelligible, but he joined the rest of the group.

An hour later, both Bugs and Shrek now knew the full story. Shrek was furious that he had been tricked so. "Oh, that's it! I'm gonna go down and wring that duck's scrawny neck!"

"Ooh, you said it, Shrek!" Donkey added. "Let's baste him like a Christmas goose! Mmm… maybe with a little plum sauce…"

"Treacherous _anatidus_ will pay for deceiving Puss in Boots!" Puss hissed.

"Whoa, whoa, guys. I got a better idea." Bugs piped up. "Now, I'd be more than happy to finance yer little romantic getaway, if you'll do me a little favour. Are you in tight with the folks who make those magic potions?"

"Oh, sure." Shrek shrugged. "I can get that stuff at discount."

"Well, here's what I want you to do, Doc." Bugs said, leaning to whisper something into Shrek's trumpet-shaped ear.

The ogre's face twisted to a vengeful grin. "I like it! I like it!"

-

Back at the Crossover Club, Daffy was getting impatient. "Looks like I'd better find another sucker." He grumbled. "I guess that stupid ogre couldn't cut it either." He sighed and took another sip of his espresso. "Now, who do you suppose I could…"

Suddenly Daffy was trapped in a convulsive coughing fit. He gasped and wheezed until finally, he coughed up a large multi-coloured egg. "What the…!" he demanded, examining his coffee. "I'm gonna get that lousy busboy canned! There is no excuse for someone like myself to be subjected to such…"

Suddenly the egg shook, rattled, cracked, and hatched. And what hatched was a ten-foot tall furry monster. "YIKES!" Daffy shrieked as the beast grabbed him in one massive hand.

"Da… da…" the behemoth cooed, cuddling Daffy close to him in a crushing hug.

"Somebody is going to pay for this…" Daffy snarled.

THE END

**Next Episode:**

_Hasta La Vista, Bunny_


	7. Hasta La Vista, Bunny

**Hasta la Vista, Bunny**

"Ooooh, I love it!" Daffy exclaimed, sizing up his latest client, a tall, menacing android which appeared perfectly human – and yet studiously deadly all the same. It was clad in denim and leather – stolen from some poor soul who had wandered too close upon the robot's arrival – and had a powerful firearm in each hand. The perfect killing machine. "It can't be bargained with. It can't be reasoned with. It doesn't feel pity, or remorse, or fear. And it absolutely will not stop, ever, until you are dead!" Daffy exclaimed, rubbing his greedy palms together in delight. "Or, more precisely, until a certain rabbit is dead!" Daffy corrected himself.

The Terminator did not flinch during all of this. "Where is Bugs Bunny?" it asked, his flat, monotonic voice laced with a heavy Teutonic accent.

"This is the spot, bucko!" Daffy chortled, producing a map. "Right here!"

The machine's eyes scanned the map for a mere second, storing it in his memory banks. He then let the paper fall to the floor. "I'll be back." Was all he said in response. Little did the scheming duck and the remorseless cyborg know that at that very moment they were being watched by a small pair of eyes that were taking very much interest in the towering robot.

"Yes!" the small white mouse with the oversized cranium enthused, a small handheld device displaying a technical readout of the Terminator that proved even better than he had conjectured. "Pinky, are you pondering what I'm pondering?" he asked his taller companion, his somber voice tinged with obsessed anticipation.

"Uh, I think so, Brain," the more obtuse mouse replied, a hint of a Cockney accent in his voice, "but I personally think you'd look terrible in fishnets."

"No, Pinky." The Brain snapped, pounding his companion over the head with a balled fist. He stared at the taller mouse for a moment, pondering more violence, before his more rational self returned to the fore. "Let's review, shall we?" he sighed, producing a series of photographs to accompany his explanation.

"Oh, I love a good picture show, Brain!" Pinky affirmed.

Ignoring this, the Brain continued. "Fact: several decades into the future, the world as we know it will be ruled by a corporation known as Skynet." He declared, producing a picture of a barren, post-apocalyptic landscape, a half-ruined city silhouetted in the background. "Fact: the enforcers of Skynet are the T-800 Terminator models, as we see before us." He continued, gesturing at the tall robot. "Are you still with me, Pinky?" he asked.

"Hey, Brain! Look what I can do! Narf!" Pinky replied, grabbing and stretching his snout, and then cramming his entire nose into his left ear. "Hyah ha haaah!" he giggled hysterically. Sighing, the Brain reached up and forcefully gripped Pinky's nose, yanking it towards him and letting go, causing it to snap back like a rubber band and knock the taller mouse off his feet. "Zort! That was fun!" Pinky giggled. "Can you do that again, Brain?"

"Your attention span is a mystery for the ages, Pinky." The Brain sighed. "Focus!" he produced the next photograph. "Fact: the T-800 Terminator model bears an uncanny resemblance to the current Governor of California." He continued his lecture, producing a photograph that compared the Governor to the Terminator. Indeed, the two were nearly identical.

"Naaaarrrrrf!" Pinky exclaimed in awe. "You think that fellow's the robot's brother, Brain?" he asked.

"Somehow I doubt that, Pinky." Brain simply responded. "Fact: at the moment, there is a large movement to amend the United States Constitution; an amendment that could well send that selfsame Governor into the White House!"

Pinky watched in rapt anticipation as Brain's fervour heightened. Now came the exciting part. "Therefore, we will commandeer that T-800 unit for our own agenda." Brain explained. "Once it is in our power, we will use it to impersonate the Governor and ascend to the position of President of the United States! Once we have the power of the United States Government on our side, we shall bankroll Skynet in its fledgling years! Whoever controls the United States controls the present, Pinky, and whoever controls Skynet controls the future! We, my friend, will have both under our command, and the world will be ours!"

"Egad, Brain! Brilliant! Magnanimous!" Pinky exclaimed, jumping in glee. Suddenly he hesitated. "No, wait… no, no… Why would that huge robot listen to us, Brain?" he asked. "I mean, he doesn't seem to be the chatty sort."

"We will not have to reason with him, Pinky." Brain replied. "We will simply…"

"Oh, oh! I've got it!" Pinky shouted. "We could break the ice by telling him a bit of joke! Auntie Sybil always said that laughter was the universal language! Let's see… hmmm…" he murmured, rubbing his forehead intently.

"Exercise caution, Pinky." Brain grumbled, even as Pinky began kneading his temples with his own fists. "I don't want the friction to burn away the few brain cells you have left."

"Oh, I've got one!" Pinky declared. He giggled slightly. "And it's a good one! Knock knock!" he simpered, punctuating this by rapping twice on a very unamused Brain's forehead.

"Who's there?" Brain asked, sheer morbid curiosity in his voice.

"Why, it's me, Brain!" Pinky looked hurt, the joke forgotten in what passed for his mind. "Don't you remember me?"

"It would take a great amount of hallucinogenics for me not to." Brain scowled.

"Oh, wait! I know!" Pinky shouted, clapping his hands. "We could figure out something we have in common and have a nice chat about it!"

"Yes, Pinky." Brain cajoled. "I'm certain that a pair of genetically-altered laboratory mice and a time-travelling assassin robot from the future must have a plethora of common interests."

"Exactly!" Pinky replied. "Um, I know! Watermelon!"

"Watermelon?" Brain's voice was verging on the edge of homicidal.

"Oh, everybody enjoys a good watermelon, Brain!" Pinky insisted.

"Pinky…" Brain sighed, holding out two fingers. "I'd like you to take a close look at my fingertips."

"Yes, Brain?" Pinky replied, leaning in for a closer look.

"Look closer, Pinky." Brain insisted, and Pinky did so. Brain then judiciously gave his dimwitted associate a nice hard poke in the eyes, sending him sprawling. "Was that a close enough look, Pinky?" Brain asked.

"Zort! I'd say, Brain!" Pinky replied, rubbing his eyes. "I got a real eyeful that time! Poit!"

"Sadly, your eyes are much more full than your cerebral cortex." Brain scolded. "We will not need to reason with this Terminator unit, Pinky." He continued. "I have created a controlling device that will allow us to fully manipulate the T-800 from the inside. Every move he makes will be our bidding: a willing puppet! And we, the future leaders of the world, will be holding the strings!"

"Ooh, Brain!" Pinky remarked. "Are we going to be making needlepoint with those strings, too?" He was rewarded with another furious blow to the face.

Finalizing his agreement with Daffy, the Terminator turned and stiffly walked towards the door. "Now, Pinky!" Brain whispered.

Pinky grunted as he hoisted the comparatively large shoulder-mounted device onto his shoulder, but he managed to raise the aiming sights, pointing directly for the back of the robot's head.

"Fire!" Brain shouted. Pinky pulled the trigger, the recoil knocking him off his feet. A small metal dart whistled through the air as it shot for its target. The Terminator's sophisticated scanners detected a hint of movement – too late.

The small dart drilled a golf ball-sized hole in the back of the cyborg's head, small devices whirring and clicking. The Terminator's metal body seized up and went rigid as its central processor was overridden. The red glow in its eyes dulled to a cool blue. A hiss and a puff of steam, and the Terminator suddenly stood at attention. It was now but a drone, ready to serve its new master.

"Success!" Brain gloated. A thin metal cord attached to the back of the dart now served as a lifeline between the robot's head and the mice's hiding place. "Make haste, Pinky!" Brain demanded, slinging a handlebar-shaped device over the wire. "Destiny awaits!" A jump and the megalomaniacal mouse was gliding towards his conquest.

It was a very nice moment, and it was utterly ruined by some random passerby stumbling over the wire, causing it to vibrate wildly. "Oh, dear." Brain mumbled as he was suddenly tossed off of the wire and to the floor, where he was unceremoniously stepped on.

"Troz! Wait for me, Brain!" Pinky dithered. "That looks like so much fun!" He attached his own device to the wire and went sliding down. "Wheeeee! Narrrrrrrf!"

He then jumped off the wire and went into free-fall, landing squarely on a still-prone Brain's back. "Hyah hah haaaaah!" Pinky giggled. "Can we do that again, Brain?"

"I'll consider it once my spinal column reassembles itself, Pinky." Brain hissed, throwing the other mouse off of his back. He then jumped and scrambled vertically up the cyborg's back, Pinky following. The two rodents crawled into the hole and found themselves in the cool ultraviolet glow of the Terminator's head unit. Lights blinked and flashed, levers clicked and clanked, and a perfect view of the outside world was visible through the robot's eye units. "Oh, yes!" Brain cackled as he situated himself at the controls. "I can feel the power!"

"Gee, Brain! It's just like something out of Tron!" Pinky cooed.

Familiarizing himself with the controls, Brain made a quick scan of the layout. All systems we go, except for one small blinking light. "It seems that there is one slight snag, Pinky." Brain muttered. "This unit apparently has a tamper-proof failsafe in its memory banks that burns in the last command it received. We will not be able to fully utilize this unit until we have removed its memory by completing its prime directive."

"What's that, Brain?" Pinky nonchalantly asked. "Tiddlywinks?"

Brain pressed the corresponding button and brought up a holographic readout of the Terminator's final mission. Various profiles, models and rundowns of Bugs Bunny popped up in front of the two mice. And then the entire screen was dominated by a red bar with a simple but meaningful message in white letters: TERMINATE.

"Hey! What's holding up the works, here?" sputtered an irate voice.

"Uh-oh, Brain! That duck is coming back!" Pinky gasped.

"I'll handle this." Brain replied, pressing the controls to make the massive robot turn around.

"What are you waiting for, Washington Day?" Daffy demanded as he stormed up to the robot. "I told you to get that rabbit! Get a move on! I'm not paying you by the hour, you know!"

"Er… yes." The Terminator replied in a somewhat different voice than before. "I was just… recalibrating my sub-hydraulic regulator. Fear not. I am now on my way to eliminate that rabbit!"

"Gee, Brain!" the Terminator then chirped in a higher voice. "This thing makes your voice sound all echoey and sinister! Roooooo! Roooo-ooo-ooo-oooo!"

"Belay your incessant blather, Pinky." The robot growled in its first voice, smacking the side of its own head with a metal fist.

"Owtch! Narf!" the robot's higher voice yelped.

"Well, farewell." The robot stammered in its lower voice. "I shall return!" It then staggered out of the room and wobbled through the corridors in a most clumsy fashion. It nearly walked into the woman's restroom, before yelling "No, Pinky! This way!" and stumbling out the door.

Daffy looked on with disgust. "I think I'd better find somebody else. Lousy cheap foreign models…"

* * *

The moon was full and bright as the Terminator remorselessly stalked his prey. Remorselessly, if not silently. "Ooh, oh, Brain! There's a hill ahead!" Pinky's voice hooted. "Coast, Brain! Coast!"

Brain looked over his shoulder in annoyance. "We have little time for frivolity, Pinky." He snapped. "The sooner we eliminate this rabbit and clear the unit's memory, the quicker we can set our plan into motion. Every moment we waste is… Pinky, what are you eating?"

"Gouda!" Pinky chirped, a few crumbs dribbling from his stuffed cheeks. "Want some?" he asked, holding up a well-bitten piece of cheese.

"No, Pinky." Brain grumbled. "And keep that cheese away from the controls! This is the most sophisticated and vulnerable part of the robot's circuitry. Any damage to it could well prove irreparable."

"Oh! Right-o, Brain." Pinky shrugged. "So, how much farther until we meet this rabbit, Brain?"

"According to the perimeter scan, not far." Brain declared, examining the heads-up display. "I'm picking up a matching bodily scan now. Strange, though." He murmured thoughtfully. "Why would anybody go through all this trouble to get rid of a rabbit?"

"You got me, Brain." Pinky shrugged. "Maybe he didn't get enough candy in his basket this Easter."

Brain disgustedly rubbed his forehead. "Pinky, when I rule the planet, remind me to proclaim you Global Whipping Boy." He sighed.

"Oh, I love Global Whipping, Brain!" Pinky grinned. "Especially on ice cream! Zort!"

Before Brain could continue this discourse, the Terminator's sensors went off all at once. No doubt about it; the rabbit was in the burrow directly in front of them. "Finally!" Brain declared. "Watch closely, Pinky." He commanded. "For you will be the only witness to the first step of the incredible journey that will end with myself as ruler of the world! For our rabbit friend…" he added. "…will not be around to tell the tale!"

"Narf!" Pinky squealed, jumping up and down in anticipation.

It seemed as though Brain's luck was at its peak. Even as the unit's weapon systems were brought online, the rabbit himself drowsily poked his head out of the hole and glared at the towering cyborg with an emotion more akin to annoyed ennui than terror. "Don't that screwy duck know when to give up?" he sighed.

Brain pulled the lever that brought the Terminator's arm level, the semiautomatic drawing a bead directly between the peeved rabbit's eyes. His finger tightened around the trigger…

BLAM-A-DA-BLAM-A-DA-BLAM-A-DA-BLAM!

Brain was thrown out of the control seat as the entire head unit was rocked backwards with violent force. He ended up landing on top of a prone Pinky. "Ooh, Brain! I didn't know you wanted to play Twister!" Pinky commented, getting another conk on the head as his reward.

"What on earth could have transpired…?" Brain muttered as he climbed back into the control seat. An emergency report confirmed that this was the rabbit's doing. In a burst of movement – so quick the replay unit needed to slow its clock cycle by 20 just to see it – the rabbit had reached up and twisted the barrel of the gun around, sending the bullets exploding back into the Terminator's face. A technical readout showed that the consequences were mostly cosmetic damage – but WHAT cosmetic damage. Most of the synthetic flesh on the robot's face had been shredded clean off, exposing a somewhat charred metallic skull. The stylish sunglasses were now lying broken on the ground. "Oh, well." Brain growled. "Synthetic flesh can be replaced. Let's see if the rabbit can say the same for his."

Though the view of the outside world was now slightly obscured by static – damage to the ocular units, no doubt – Brain could see the rabbit making his escape. Snarling, Brain broke the robot into a run, tossing the now worthless rifle aside. The pistol would suffice, especially since it lacked a long barrel for tampering with. Powerful hydraulics sent the massive machine into actions, racing across the hills far faster than any human could run. "Do not fret, Pinky." Brain said, more to himself than to his assistant. "We still have the upper hand."

"Oh, I'm not fretting, Brain." Pinky replied between mouthfuls of cheese. "I rather enjoy marathons, actually. When do we get to hold the torch?"

"Pinky, what did I tell you to do?" Brain scolded, pointing at the cheese.

"Oh, wait, I know this one." Pinky mused, deep in thought. A few crumbs fell from the Gouda and rolled to the floor.

"The cheese, Pinky! The cheese!" Brain shouted. Pinky nervously clutched the Gouda to his chest. "If so much as one crumb falls into the machinery and damages it, I will jam the entire volume of your nose into that… that physics-defying vacuole that you harbour within your brain cavity! Understood?"

"Zort! Duly noted, Brain." Pinky replied, trembling slightly. Brain turned back to the controls in satisfaction. "So that means you don't want a bite, Brain?" Pinky cheerfully added.

A large vein stitched its way across Brain's ponderous forehead, and sparks were resulting from the intense grinding of his back molars, but other than that he kept his calm admirably. The long-range motion sensors revealed that the rabbit had sought refuge inside a nearby steel mill. The Terminator smashed down the door and stepped inside. Everything went black.

"Hmm. We'll have to switch to infra-red vision." Brain declared, hitting a switch. Immediately the blackness lightened, and the two mice suddenly found themselves face-to-face with a hideous, grinning ghoul. "YAAAAAAAAAH!" the mice screamed, Pinky jumping up into Brain's arms.

The ghoul removed its mask, revealing a chuckling Bugs Bunny. "What a boid-brain!" Bugs laughed. A vengeful burst of gunfire blasted his way, but Bugs was too quick, darting for safety behind a metal pillar.

"Pinky, I'll need your help for this one." Brain ordered. "I'll handle the main controls and the weapon sights. I need you to scan for obstacles so we don't run into anything. Can you handle that?"

"Sure, Brain!" Pinky responded. "When have I ever let you down?"

"We don't have all night, Pinky." Brain replied. "Now keep your eyes on the area scan and tell me if anything stands in our way. I'll take care of this troublesome rabbit."

"Yes, sir!" Pinky saluted, his saluting hand happening to hold a chunk of Gouda. A few crumbs scattered across the control room. Pinky grinned in embarrassment at a glowering Brain before darting towards the area scan and looking at it intently.

The next few minutes were quite stressful for all involved; a deadly game of catch-me-if-you-can. Every time Brain was able to jockey the Terminator into an optimum firing position, he was only able to let off a few shots before the rabbit found further cover. This cat-and-mouse continued for a while until Brain noticed that the rabbit was seeking refuge behind a large metal turbine. However, were he to climb onto the catwalk at the end of an adjoining hallway, he would have the ability to snipe at his leisure. "Pinky!" Brain asked. "Are there any obstacles in the corridor ninety degrees to our right?"

"Uh… well, it looks okay to me, Brain." Pinky shrugged.

"That's not good enough, Pinky." Brain insisted. "Are there any conveyor belts blocking the way?"

"Uh… no." Pinky confirmed.

"Any ventilator hoods?" Brain asked.

"Nope, none of those neither." Pinky nodded.

"Any overhanging slag boxes? Coolant sprayers? Cutting blades?" Brain asked.

"No, no, no." Pinky replied. "None of those are in the corridor."

"Good!" Brain replied. "Now, here we go!" The Terminator stepped forward – and into open air.

"Oh, poit!" Pinky piped up. "I just remembered something…!" Too late.

The Terminator tumbled several stories down into the basement sublevel, landing waist-deep in a massive smelting pot. "Pinky!" Brain scolded. "Why didn't you tell me there was an open shaft directly in front of us?"

"Well, I didn't want to upset you, Brain." Pinky rationalized. "You've had rather a long day…" Further explanation was halted by Brain throttling him to within an inch of his life.

Ignoring the intense heat, Brain examined the diagnostics – absolutely no response from the Terminator's legs. Lurching forward, Brain made the robot hoist itself out of the pot; its top half, at least.

"Gosh, Brain." Pinky pointed out as the Terminator's torso lay on the ground. "How are we going to be President if we only have half a body?"

Brain idly wiped perspiration from his forehead. "Perhaps this is a blessing in disguise, Pinky. Having no movement from the waist down did not stop Franklin D. Roosevelt from becoming one of the greatest Presidents of the century!"

"Narf!" Pinky exclaimed. "You mean that little fellow from Sesame Street?"

"Well, it doesn't matter." Brain declared. "We will defeat that rabbit, so long as we still have two arms, a firearm and my superior intellect!"

CLANG! Suddenly a large piece of metal shielding fell from above, neatly shearing the Terminator's left arm off. Wrenching the robot's head up, Brain saw the rabbit grinning coyly at them from above. "Eh, don't worry, Doc. You can get workman's comp for that!" he smirked, running off.

"Maybe we should just call it a night, Brain." Pinky suggested. "That rabbit seems to be a bit too much."

"Give up? What kind of mouse are you?" Brain demanded. "I have not yet begun to fight! What would Napoleon say if he were here?"

"I don't know, Brain." Pinky replied. "I don't speak French!"

BONK.

Outside the mill, Bugs sat on a nearby cliff, watching the first glow of dawn creep over the horizon. And he tried very hard to pretend that he was not aware of the badly-damaged automaton creeping pitifully behind him. The Terminator now consisted of a head that housed two very flustered mice, a torso, a single arm that was slowly dragging itself along the ground, and a pistol tenaciously held within a set of metallic teeth. Pricking his ears up, Bugs heard voices emanating from the robot's voice box.

"All right, Pinky. This task is so simple that not even you could foul it up." Brain explained.

"Zort! Really?" Pinky asked.

"Well, no. There isn't a task in the universe immune to your unique touch." Brain conceded. "But nevertheless, you should have no difficulties if you do exactly as I say. I will manoeuvre the robot into position. As soon as I say 'fire', you will activate the weapons arm. You got that, Pinky? No 'are you sure, Brain', no 'do you really mean that, Brain'. As soon as I say fire, no matter what, you pull the trigger. Any questions?"

"Uh, just one, Brain." Pinky replied. "Why don't we just shoot him from here?"

"Conqueror's honour." Brain replied. "This rabbit has proven a worthy foe even to my superior brainpower. I may as well enlighten him as to our intentions before we eliminate him."

The Terminator brought itself to an upright position, the pistol raised in its right arm. "Hear me, oh persistent rabbit!" Brain's voice boomed from the speakers. Bugs casually turned to face his assailants.

"Yeah, I can hear ya, Mac. What's your beef?" Bugs asked.

"We have you covered with a heavy automatic pistol. Behind you is a 200-foot drop. Any attempt to escape would be a martyr's gesture." Brain's voice continued.

"Yeah, yeah. I got that." Bugs replied, impatiently. "Let's hear your piece already."

"I realize that my words are difficult for such a simple creature as yourself to understand." Brain's voice replied. "Suffice it to say that eliminating you will be the catalyst towards me taking my rightful place as ruler of the world!"

"Don't forget California, Brain!" Pinky's voice piped up.

"Yes, and California too." Brain's voice muttered. "Nevertheless, I have decided to grant you your choice of last words. Speak now, my worthy opponent."

"Okay, Doc." Bugs replied. He then reached behind him and produced a fire extinguisher. "I bet I can beat you with this little baby!"

"Don't be ridiculous." Brain sneered. "Even you must realize that the only thing that contrivance is useful for is extinguishing a fire!" He suddenly realized what he had been tricked into saying. "Pinky, no!" he shouted. Too late.

The instant Brain was distracted, Bugs leaped up, forcing the Terminator's arm down. The bullets fired at remarkable frequency, shredding the robot's chest unit instead of the intended target. Bugs calmly sauntered away as the mice were sent spinning out of control. Brain was barely able to have the robot's arm grab the cliff face to prevent their fall. The cliff began to crumble.

Brain wrenched the controls furiously as he fought for stability; both the robot's and his own. Intellectually, he knew that the Terminator had suffered too much damage, both cosmetic and structural, to be of any more use to him, but still he fanatically fought with all of his white-knuckled might. He would win. It was the only logical outcome. The rabbit would pay for this.

"Pinky!" Brain barked to his associate, who was back at his beloved Gouda. "Cease your hedonistic indulgence and help me!"

"Oh, right-o, Brain!" Pinky replied, jumping up and tossing the cheese over his shoulder. "Poit!"

"Pinky! The cheese!" Brain yelled. But it was already too late. The cheese hit the wall and crumbled, sending a myriad of crumbs into the sensitive circuitry. Electric arcs raced and crackled through the area. Lights flashed and sirens blared. The controls snapped off in Brain's hands.

"Oh, cruel destiny. Why must you do this to me?" Brain lamented, his eyes on the heavens, his voice broken.

"You got me, Brain." Pinky shrugged. "Maybe you should send her chocolates."

"Shut up, Pinky." Brain snapped.

The robot finally lost its grip and fell.

Mere seconds later, what was once the Terminator was now a twisted mass of smoking metal on the canyon floor. A fuming Brain pulled himself from the wreckage, his conquests once again crushed. Crushed, just like the destroyed machine beneath him. "Another bitter failure." Brain sighed.

"Well, look on the bright side, Brain!" Pinky piped up. "We could use this pretty blinking light on our Christmas tree! Poit!"

Brain examined the light. "WARNING: INTERNAL NUCLEAR REACTOR UNSTABLE" it warned.

"Duck, Pinky!" Brain yelled.

"No, Brain! I'm a mouse!" Pinky argued. "The duck was the fellow who we talked to earlier…"

The explosion was heard for miles, a towering mushroom cloud serving as the Terminator's pyre. Bugs watched as he preened from the cliff-top. "Eh, that's definitely gonna come up at the next UN meeting." He commented.

Finally, the fallout settled and two somewhat charred mice pulled themselves from the ashes. "Narf, Brain!" Pinky hooted. "We should go on these outings more often!"

Brain stood in stolid silence for the longest time, before determinedly turning and walking away from ground zero. "Come, Pinky." He muttered, his businesslike tone back in his voice. "We have much planning to do for tomorrow night."

"Why?" Pinky asked as he scampered along behind his friend. "What are we gonna do tomorrow night, Brain?"

"The same thing that we do every night, Pinky." Brain replied, a hint of emotion in his otherwise flat voice. "Try to take over the world!"

The two rodents walked off into the sunrise. Tomorrow would be different. Or at least that's what they told themselves.

THE END

_**Next Chapter:  
**__Holy Crap!_


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